Four Different Lives
by Max Albina
Summary: Follow the lives of four different girls as they are reaped and thrown into the arena. Not a SYOT, but a Hunger Games with a twist. I'm not great at summeries but please read, you won't regret.


AVIS SAGITTA, DISTRICT ELEVEN

It's time. It could be my sister, she's eighteen. The fact that she took tesserae once but her name had been in the reaping ball enough without that is too much. All I am left to do is hope that she's not reaped. I don't know what I'll do if she is.

Our escort's name is Bono, and she's wearing a white dress with giant black buttons and a lopsided black-and-white hat sits on her dark hair. Her skin is whiter than a sheet of paper, and she is wearing black lipstick, making her look creepy.

"And our female tribute for District Eleven is… Avis Sagitta!" Huh? Did the mayor finish his speech?

That feeling. That strange feeling of being emotionally punched in the gut, almost as bad as physical pain. No, luckily my sister isn't reaped. I am, though.

I slowly make my way up, taking tiny steps and looking down. With the corner of my eye, I see some movement in the eighteen year old section.

A girl with caramel-colored skin raises her hand up, moving out of the crowd, ready to volunteer. Now, some other sixteen-year-old girl of District Eleven would be happy to have someone volunteer for her, but not me. Not if it is my sister.

"No!" I scream out for the whole District to hear. The cameras are on me.

Inyx looks at me.

"Don't volunteer! Don't volunteer!" I beg her.

She doesn't stop going, a grave expression on her face. I know what would happen next. Me screaming, peacekeepers dragging me away, and then… Inyx will go into the Hunger Games. Then who will support our family? She is more useful than I am. And more important. If that's not enough, she is my sister.

"If you volunteer… I'll… I'll… I'll end myself!" That's the only thing that comes to my mind, even though it sounds psychopathic and I'm bluffing.

She stares at me, her eyes hard. Then she walks back to the eighteen-year-old section, shoulders hunched. Next thing I know, I'm sitting in the Justice Building, crying. Inyx bursts into the room, followed by my mother. My sister gives me a big hug, and then looks me right in the eye.

"You can do this, Avis," she says firmly.

"I'll try…" I whisper, because my throat is too tight to speak normally.

"No, you will win, understand. You have a chance. You know everything there is to know about plants, and you are small enough to hide."

"I guess you're right…"

"Of course I am. And you are much stronger than you look like. You are charismatic. You are flexible. I know you," she states.

"Maybe…"

"Hey, look what I got you today," Inyx takes my hand and presses something inside of it, "An apple pin. To remind you of District Eleven and give you strength."

I look at the pin. The apple itself was a smooth, round ruby, the stem was bronze, and there was one clear green Swarovski leaf. It was contrasting with my dress.

"Where did you get it?" I asked, suddenly looking up. Had she stolen it?

"Doesn't matter. Just take it."

And I did. Even though I could never bring myself to steal in the punishing District Eleven, I accepted something stolen.

"OK. Maybe I can win." I wipe my tears away. Nobody needs to see them.

CARCER VENATOR, DISTRICT FOUR

Getting up in the morning is a torture all of us have to go with. It's not my fault I'm not a morning person. I just hate everything about mornings: morning breath, messed-up hair, and that dazed feeling, not being alert like a real Career should.

My father said that the first thing a Career should learn is to always stay alert. I calmly get out of bed, unlike every other morning, which included a lot of moaning and covering my face with a pillow. Reaping in District Four starts at six, and I need to be ready. Today I volunteer.

I walk into the bathroom silently, and just as quietly walk out in twenty minutes.

Back in my room, I open the wardrobe and take out a weightless aqua blouse and white jeans. I know most people would choose jewelry to match their clothes, but I chose this to match my jewelry. I'm taking my black leather necklace with a piece of jagged sea glass hanging down from it as a token.

I quickly put it on and go downstairs, where I see Mom making breakfast for herself and Dad.

"So how's our future victor?" She proudly beams at me.

"Fine," I say taking a seat. I sit down, look at my plate. There's some caviar, an egg, and a small potato. Not in the mood for eating, I stare at the caviar. "Where's Dad?"

"He wanted to get the best place at the reaping. He's so proud," she says.

"I think I'll go too, Mom." And with that I get up and walk out of the house in the Victor's Village.

I walk for about thirty minutes before I see a crowd of regular kids, getting ready for the reaping. My dad had everybody know I was volunteering, so they couldn't.

I walk into the town square, head high. A few minutes pass, before the mayor gets up off his seat and walks to the middle of the stage. He tells us about the Dark Days, the Treaty of Treason, and the Hunger Games. It's all very boring, as usual. I can't stop looking at our escort, Cinnamon. She is wearing a crisp autumn-colored low-cut dress, revealing a dark crimson corset, and beige shoes. Her hair is actually a natural-looking shiny brown, and she's wearing golden eyeliner.

When the mayor finally finishes talking and sits down in his chair, Cinnamon takes her place in between the two glass balls full of names.

"Ladies first!" She attacks the first paper she sees, and rips it open quickly. I didn't pay attention to the name, I was daydreaming. I only snapped back into reality when I saw a fourteen-year-old make her way up on stage, confident that someone would volunteer.

"I volunteer!" I say clearly, as people make way for me. They clap, including my parents of course.

The fourteen-year-old shrugs at me and walks back down. I proudly make my way on stage, taking in all the attention I deserve.

"And what is your name, young woman?" Cinnamon asks, holding the microphone to my mouth.

"Carcer Venator." People cheer.

"Well, Carcer, I do believe you will bring pride to District Four!" she exclaims.

"And now for the gentlemen!" She turns around and again picks the first paper she sees. The second after she reads the name, a boy my age named Acastus Hunter eagerly volunteers.

"Now shake hands, my dears!"

We shake hands, and then we're lead into the Justice Building.

**Hey! I'm finished with the first chapter of reapings, the second one will show Rayne and Oriel. I hope you like it.**


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